


He and I

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-02
Updated: 2005-08-02
Packaged: 2018-11-20 20:35:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11342745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Languidly luxuriating.





	He and I

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

He and I

### He and I

#### by Griva

  


He and I  
Rated: almost innocent   
Notes: just a scene expressing duality of heart and mind...Easily guessable POV. 

* * *

Languidly luxuriating, lustily laying across damp sheets he stretched and sighed. I shuddered and stood. Curling on the bed, a cat, a feline enticing, he could purr or swipe at whim. I knew his enticements, knew only too well it was beyond me, beyond my ability to control my own destiny. If he wanted me, I was his. If he wanted me, it would be at his invitation only, black tie not required, no time to RSVP. 

The air in the room was thick with our spent desire and August afternoon. I stood, drowsy, but seemingly in regret. He languished. Regret was not a word that applied to his life. Not a word in his vocabulary, regarding himself. He might say, "you will regret it if you don't". But there weren't opportunities for even this to be spoken. He never had to convince anyone. 'Do you regret it?' Again, I could ask this. But I didn't. Because I didn't care to know the answer. 

I stood, hand to forehead as if a sudden remembrance of a forgotten task had pushed its way to the front of my mind. He lay watching, not curious, not inquisitive. Not even bored. He took in his nakedness with content admiration of himself. That was occupying his mind. What was on mine? 

He didn't care. 

The act had passed, he was sated. That's all that mattered to him. I looked back over my shoulder at him, the light through the blinds casting shadow, giving him complexion a pale/tan illusion. He lowered his head and glanced at me through lowered lashes, thick and as if painted. A finger to his mouth, he lapped at his own fingertip like a lazy kitten. I shuddered feeling the submission to desire course through my body again. It was never ever enough. My head sunk into my hands, as I tried to ward the temptation off and I heard him yawn and could feel his body stretch without having to see it, driving me crazier. 

Still I swung between gratitude and self-disgust. Passion and self-pity. Love and contempt. 

I needed to leave, to get out of here now. But something leaden kept me in place, facing away yet held by the same magnetic force that drew me back time and time again. The addictive taste and smell of him, the compelling feel of him, the mesmerizing sound of each sigh, moan and cry. And for him? For him what was this but entertainment? But sport? But play? But the feeding of his animal need for physical contact with another being? 

I was a good lay, was it all for him? 

"Satisfied?" 

He purred "yeah" and nodded slowly, shadow of a smile hovered in the corner of his delicate mouth. My heart was pounding extra hard for one beat at the sound of his word. A word. Hardly ever did language emanate from that mouth, to my ears. I looked at him, expectant, exhausted, willing. 

If only... 

"Get out," I said. 

/end  
July 22nd, 2005   
  

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